"He's alive." Phoebe closed her eyes as Duncan whipped the Porsche into the street. "He's alive." She turned her phone over and over in her hands as if she were afraid it would ring and tell her otherwise. "He had to get inside the house if the door was rigged. He had to get inside Dave's house."

"He's not going to get inside MacNamara House, Phoebe."

"He doesn't want to." Fear, grief, guilt stirred an uneasy mix inside her. "It's not going to be like that. If he'd wanted to get in there, he wouldn't have put me on alert. He's got something else in mind. But he wants me wounded. He wants me hurting when it comes down to what he's got in mind. And oh God, Duncan, I am."

She burst through the emergency room doors, her badge already in her hand. She held it up to the first nurse she saw. "David McVee."

"You need to check with-"

"No. You check. Now."

"Lieutenant."

She spun around and bulleted toward Sykes. "Where is he? What's his status?"

"They're working on him. Can't get much out of them, but I talked to the paramedics who brought him in. Broken arm, some burns, lacerations. Head trauma-there're some worries there. And there could be internal injuries. I was still in the house when the call came in. I followed the ambulance in."

"I want two guards here in the ER. Two guards wherever they take him."

"Already done." Sykes nodded when Duncan came up behind Phoebe. "Lieutenant, there was a witness. A neighbor. She was shaken up some, got a few cuts. They're stitching her up."

"I want to see her the minute she's out. Detective… Bull, I need someone I can trust over at Dave's, talking to the bomb team, the CS people. I know you don't want to leave him." She reached out, squeezed his hand. "I promise I'll contact you the minute there's anything to do. But I need someone I can trust on that scene."

"Okay. Okay." Sykes scrubbed his hands over his worried face. "You let him know I'm around. Cops all over the place in here, so you let him know we're all around."

"I will. Thank you."

"Why don't you sit down?" Duncan said when Sykes headed out.

"I don't think I can. I'm good at waiting, but I need to know… something. I just need to know." Her hand vised on Duncan's arm when she saw the gurney and the medical team.

She lunged forward. There were cuts and burns on his face, a gash at his left temple. And blood on the sheet that covered him.

"How is he? Where are you taking him?"

"You family?"

"Yes."

The young doctor continued to move at double time toward the elevators. "He's going into surgery. He's bleeding inside. Somebody'll let you know as soon as he's out."

Phoebe signaled the two uniformed officers. "They go where he goes. You wait outside the OR. I'll be there as soon as I talk to the witness." She stood back and watched them push the man who'd been her father most of her life into the elevator.

"It's the best trauma center in the city." Duncan laid his hands on her shoulders. "One of the best in the state. He couldn't do better."

"No. I wish I could fall apart. I wish I could just fall apart until they come to tell me… We should've put cops on his house. Anyone who knows me knows what Dave is for me, what he is to me."

"Take a minute." Gently, Duncan turned her into his arms. "You can fall apart for a minute."

She let herself cling, let herself shake. He was holding her, good, solid arms around her. "I'm so scared. I don't know what to do I'm so scared."

"Just hold onto me until you figure it out."

"Don't go anywhere, okay?" She gripped him tighter. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of course I will. Phoebe." He put a hand under her chin to lift her face to his. "I'll be right here."

She sighed, and laid her head on his shoulder. It was such a comfort, she realized, to have someone else be strong. To have someone else be the one who was right there.

"I thought I forgot how to need somebody to stay." She eased back. "Lucky for me I remembered when the somebody can be counted on." She spotted Maggie coming out of a treatment room. "That's Dave's neighbor." Phoebe blew out a long breath. "All right. Here we go." She took two steps forward. "Maggie?"

At the sound of her name, Maggie jolted, looked over. Then, bursting into tears, all but fell into Phoebe's arms. "All right now. Hush now." Even as Phoebe looked around for somewhere marginally private, Duncan had a hand on her shoulder to steer her and her charge toward some chairs.

"Y'all sit right here," he told Phoebe. "I'll go hunt up some coffee."

"Good, that'd be good. Maggie, I need you to stop crying. I need you to stop." Firmly, Phoebe pulled back to take Maggie by both shoulders. "I need you to stop and talk to me."

"David. I think he must be dead. Oh God!"

"Well, he's not. They took him up to surgery. They're taking care of him. Don't you start going hysterical on me again. I mean it. I need you to take some good, deep breaths. In and out. You do what I say, you hear? In and out. That's right. That's better. Now, you tell me what happened. Right from the beginning."

"I don't know. " Tears still streamed as Maggie fluttered her hands. "I swear I don't know."

"You tell me what you do know. You were with Dave, at his house?"

"No. Yes. I mean to say I'd been out with a friend-you met my friend Delly when David had that barbecue last summer? We went out for lunch, and a little shopping spree. I'd just pulled up at home, right before the storm, and I saw David."

She covered her face with her hands, but Phoebe yanked them ruthlessly away. "I know you're upset, but you're going to keep talking, keep telling me. Where was Dave when you saw him?"

"Going up the walk to his front door. I beeped the horn, and he waved. I thought how he could help me carry my shopping bags in, so I beeped again, and got out right quick to hail him. It was thundering, and he was already unlocking his front door. But he turned around. He's such a sweetheart."

Fighting for patience, Phoebe stuffed a wad of tissues in Maggie's hands. "He didn't go in the house?"

"He… He was coming back to help me. His door blew open.

That's right, I remember how his door blew open. That wind came up so strong, and I guess he'd started to open the door before he turned back to help me. Then, oh my God, Phoebe, the door just exploded." After mopping her face with them, Maggie twisted the damp tissues into ropes. "I don't know exactly, I swear to God, I just don't. I fell-it was like being shoved. I fell down. My knees got all scraped up, and my arm-" She held out her arm to show the bandage. "Five stitches. But David… David."

"Here you go, Phoebe." Duncan came back with coffee. "Ma'am? I thought you might like some coffee."

"Oh, isn't that nice." Instinctively Maggie pushed at her hair. "Thank you so much. My goodness, I must look a fright."

"You look just fine," Duncan assured her as he set little tubs of cream and some sugar packets on the table between the chairs. "I didn't know how you like your coffee."

"Plenty sweet," Maggie said. "Oh, and you got the pink kind, too. Are you with the police?"

"No, ma'am. I'm just a friend. I'll leave you to talk to Phoebe."

"Oh. Oh, could you stay? I can't help myself, I just feel more secure in times of crisis when there's a man around."

"Maggie, this is Duncan. Duncan, why don't you sit down? Now,

Maggie, how long was it from the time the door blew open until the explosion?" "Oh goodness, I'm not sure. A few seconds. Maybe five? Ah, he stopped. Yes, that's right, David stopped and looked back when the door slammed open, and I think he started to go back and close it. I think he'd just started to take a step or two back toward the house when… Oh my God, Phoebe. If he'd gotten back-"

"He didn't. You calling him out to your car to help you saved his life. You think about that, Maggie. You called him away from that door, so he's upstairs getting fixed up."